The Sexiest Fictional Horror Villains of All Time

Lauren: Zaddy? Sorry. Zaddy? Sorry. Zaddy? I hate arrogance, but I would gleefully let Hannibal talk down to me all night long. Read me to filth like you did Clarice Starling, then draw me like one of your prison cell masterpieces, and teach me to say please.

Audra: I like a guy with a discerning palate, and for what this one lacks in the looks department, he makes up for in sophistication. He’s well-traveled, cultured, and an unparalleled conversationalist. However, our tastes, I fear, would eventually become our undoing. I despise fava beans.

Lauren’s rating: 8 glasses of a nice Chianti out of 10.

Audra’s rating: 6 lotion bottles in the basket out of 10.

Audra: He’s from my home state of Ohio, which makes a lot of sense, because he looks like someone I’ve seen in a cut shot photo of a JD Vance rally. Speaking of Ohio, he’s not exactly easy on the eyes but I’ve met a few guys from there whose hands are pretty powerful, so that’s something. I’d also be remiss not to note that I’ve unintentionally worn some variation of his signature ensemble more than once. He might be in your dreams, but I’m in his sweater, so to speak.

Lauren: Great at surprises? Check. Will keep me on my toes? Check. Can throw me around a room? Triple check! Unfortunately for all of Freddy’s pros, there are some major cons: For one, I’ve had an IUD inserted, so I can handle a little pain—but that doesn’t mean I want anything that sharp poking around down there. And, while I mentioned looks don’t really matter, I do prefer a lover with a face I can’t accidentally slide off. Some light scratching is hot, but staring at a bloody, bug-eyed skull is not.

Audra’s rating: 5 bladed fingers out of 10.

Lauren’s rating: 3 fedoras out of 10.

Lauren: My issue with Michael is that he just kills to kill. There’s no rhyme or reason or, most importantly, rhythm—though he does walk slowly, which is somewhat promising. He’s just so, “Oh, I’m cursed now I kill everything,” which, yeah, life sucks sometimes. This is all to say that I don’t think he’d be generous, passionate, or anything to write home from the afterlife about. But I guess, if nothing else, I know he won’t stop until he’s sure I’m finished.

Audra: Listen. The man is 6’9, meaning he can wine, dine, and 69 me by default. I don’t need to see his face to know that Michael may not be good with his words, but his body is fluent in some truly freaky shit. At best, he’s emotionally unavailable; at worst, he literally cannot speak. Unfortunately, that only makes me want to be his Final Girl all the more, because I’m of the mind that men have said enough.

Lauren’s rating: 3 Carhartt coveralls out of 10.

Audra’s rating: 9 rubber masks out of 10.

Audra: I’m always prepared to make the case for the fact that high school bullies deserve a little torture, and Sue Ann Ellington (aka “Ma”) suffered enough to administer some of her own. As cartoonishly maniacal as she’s revealed to be, one has to admit she throws one hell of a party. Sure, she’s homicidal, but more than anything, she just wants acceptance...and revenge. For the low, low price of free beer in her Ohio garage, I’m happy to be her evil sidekick.

Lauren: I don’t know, the best form of revenge seems to be leaving Ohio, not converting your basement into a drinking spot to lure in the high school-aged kids of your former bullies. That said, I’ll agree with Audra on this one! Sue Ann has suffered enough, and I’ll RSVP yes to any party she invites me to. Still loses points for remaining in Ohio, though.

Audra’s rating: 7 Natural Lights out of 10.

Lauren’s rating: 5 pairs of earrings out of 10.

Audra: How do I put this in a way that will make my prestige journalist grandfather only slightly shift in his grave? I would make like a Dyson and slurp corn syrup from every one of Billy Loomis’ extremities. No, I would be the third that he and his “friend” Stu didn’t know they needed. Actually, wait—I would offer him my hypothetical virginity even after discovering he’s the murderous maniac that killed my mother. What I’m really trying to say is, Billy Loomis—in all of his slutty t-shirt and unhinged-stare glory—could rearrange my guts. No questions (distorted by a voice modifier) asked. And the fact that the actor who portrays him is named Skeet…nah, it’s too easy.

Audra’s rating: 10 stabs (preferably in the nether region) out of 10.

Lauren: He’s silly, he’s fun-loving, and sure, he’s a psychotic dick, but in a goofy way. If his motive for murder is “peer pressure” because he’s “far too sensitive,” I’d like to see what other positions I could pressure him into. Plus, I’d really love to experience all that “zealous” energy in a less homicidal but still equally savage way. Billy Loomis does nothing for me—but if Stu Macher feels like chasing me around wearing a cloak and mask and wielding a knife, I’d make any sound he wants.

Lauren’s rating: 10 TVs falling on my face out of 10

Lauren: There’s nothing hotter than a man who’s so comfortable with his masculinity that he’ll wear a wig, a full face of makeup, and a satin jumpsuit. Harry Styles wishes. Pennywise terrorizes children, but I’m definitely not a kid anymore—so hide in my shower, let me borrow your wig, and let’s get weird.

Audra: Though this film traumatized me as a child, there’s a photograph of Tim Curry on set, smoking a cigar whilst in full character, and I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s kind of erotic. I like to imagine that in some parallel universe, when Pennywise takes a vacation from terrorizing little kids, he’s laid up on a porch, pondering life’s rich tapestry, and puffing on Panatella. Would I float with him? Sure.

Lauren’s rating: 8 clown noses out of 10.

Audra’s rating: 6 red balloons out of 10.

Audra: What could be better than your number one fan? A devoted caretaker, avid reader, and a Liberace fan with a cozy home and a mean meatloaf recipe. I don’t know if I’d maintain a romantic relationship with Annie, but if she happened to list her abode on Airbnb, I’d at least consider a weekend away.

Lauren: A stalker with an idyllic cabin in the woods is not so much a stalker as they are a new friend with a few colorful personality traits. And if that new friend wants to tie me up and read everything I’ve ever written? That sounds like a very Merry Christmas to me.

Audra’s rating: 5 unfinished manuscripts out of 10.

Lauren’s rating: 7 pet pigs out of 10.

Audra: Jeff Goldblum in The Fly makes a strong case for men simply doing less. As someone wise once said, be hot, do whatever you want...except for insist upon building a teleportation machine, despite its apparent perils. The only thing more abhorrent than vomiting digestive enzymes onto food prior to consuming them? A selfish lover. Buzz off, Brundle.

Lauren: Seth Brundle is more of a mad scientist than a cold-blooded villain, but men refusing to accept the law and limits of physics is very terrifying. 1987 Jeff Goldblum can do whatever he wants to me. But Goldblum as Brundle as an insect? Shoo fly, don’t bother me. Call me crazy, but if I’m going to get down and dirty with an egotistical maniac, I’m going to do it with one who’ll just kill me, rather than try and morph me into some puking, oozing pest. But to each his own.

Audra’s rating: 3 swatters out of 10.

Lauren’s rating: 2 Jeff Goldblums out of 10 🙁

Lauren: Even though I feel like I really, truly, could absolutely fix and help him learn to love himself just as he is—the Texas zip code and still living with his whole family are two giant nos from me. Sorry, Leatherface. Find an apartment in St. Louis, then maybe I’ll let you have a peek at my insides.

Audra: So he’s...inventive. As Lauren aptly noted, I’m not trying to bunker down with a dude’s family, especially not in the Lone Star state. I gotta split.

Lauren’s rating: 1 gas station stop for snacks on a road trip with friends out of 10.

Audra’s rating: 2 bloodstained aprons out of 10.

Audra: On the surface, she looks like just another conventionally attractive cheerleader with an attitude. Have a sleepover with her, and you’ll find she’s actually a bisexual succubus who feeds on the souls of mediocre men. Simply writing that last sentence has me primed to do a naked herkie.

Lauren: Would skin myself alive to have Jennifer Check suck the blood out of my neck. Wouldn’t everyone?

Audra’s rating: 10 pom-poms out of 10.

Lauren’s rating: 10 rotisserie chickens out of 10.

Audra: Sorry, but brute strength just isn’t my thing—especially not if you clearly enjoy hockey enough to be characterized solely by a goalie mask. Or, you’re just that unimaginative. We get it, Jason: You want to be Michael Myers! Unfortunately, you’re a few years too late, babe.

Lauren: Contrary to what Audra said, this might be the villain of my dreams. He’s Luke Danes, if Stars Hallow had a serial killer and Gilmore Girls was a horror movie. He’s Joe Manganiello in Magic Magic with a deadly lap dance that nearly ends me. He’s Khal Drogo with, well, about the same amount of killing but during a time when it was more socially acceptable. Jason’s 6’5 (a perfect height) and doesn’t talk (we don’t have enough of those). I’m much more of a beach bum than a lake gal, but for Jason, I will be Crystal Lake’s No. 1 camper.

Lauren’s rating: 11 camp cheers out of 10.

Audra’s rating: 2 machetes out of 10.

Lauren: I love a man who’s 6'5, but I have no problem with one who’s 3'5. Especially if they’re kind of rough and good at dirty talk and clearly don’t mind a little biting. Obviously, Chucky the “Good Guy” is a doll, but Chucky, the man whose soul inhabits the doll, can play with me as long as he’d like.

Audra: I like a man in overalls (see Christian Bale’s latest GQ cover), and a good sense of humor is nothing to play with. Unfortunately, I am only a distant ally of the #ShortKing movement. If you are below 5'10, I’ll be your friend till the end, but you are, according to my safety requirements, too short to ride.

Lauren’s rating: 6 suburban brick fireplaces out of 10.

Audra’s rating: 3 plastic knives out of 10.

Audra: The tongue. I repeat: The tongue. Why do you think Bezos wants to colonize space so badly? In a galaxy far, far away, unlimited orgasms await us. And out there, no one can hear you scream.

Lauren: Anything can be terrifying if you’re stranded in space and surrounded by darkness. But drop Alien into the middle of Central Park on a gorgeous, sunny, autumn day and your scary extraterrestrial monster is now a tall, lanky heartthrob. Those fingers, seemingly much less sharp than Freddy’s, definitely don’t hurt either...long as their gentle.

Audra’s rating: 9 space domes out of 10.

Lauren’s rating: 7 perfect lift offs of 10

Lauren: Something about the symmetry of the pins really elevates the golden ratio of the face to a new plane of existence. Beyond that, the androgyny, the deep, echo-y voice, the needing to literally figure out a puzzle to get them to talk to you—I’d be their disciple in any dimension. I will definitely not be exploring the outermost boundaries of physical pain, but emotional pain? Pinhead, please hurt all of my feelings.

Audra: They’re kinky! They speak only when necessary! And I’d get to borrow their wardrobe! Need I say more?

Lauren’s rating: 10 out of 10 bags of Reese’s Peanut Butter Pumpkins.

Audra’s rating: 9 out of 10 chains.